Completely Random One Shots
by Pip the Dark Lord of All
Summary: This is a series of random short stories involving Lord of the Rings. I am not responsible for any insanity this may cause. There will be random appearances from other fandoms as well.
1. Chapter 1

I'm not even going to try and explain this. I was bored? Well, I am not responsible for any insanity this may cause.

* * *

Lindir sighed. Life was so boring at times. Nothing ever seemed to happen... he wondered where everyone was. Maybe he should write a new song, but no one seemed to appreciate his brilliance. He sighed dramatically again. If only something would happen...

Suddenly Elrond ran in, jumping up and down and sqeeeeing. "Did you hear what happened, Lindir? Did you hear?"

Lindir stuttered something inaudible.

Elrond grinned like an elfling. "I'm so excited! Yes, yes I am!" He leapt onto a table and began dancing, not seeming to notice the fine glasses and plates he was smashing.

"My...my Lord?" gasped Lindir.

Elrond jumped down and hugged Lindir. "Ah, finally someone to talk to! Ahh, my poor sad life is so underappreciated!"

"What...news? What has happened?" Lindir managed to get out.

"Nothing has happened!" sang Elrond. "All's well in the world, all it needs is some orcs!"

Glorfindel burst into the room. "Ahh, there you are!" he shouted. "You" he pointed at Elrond "are coming with me!"

Elrond crumpled into a little pile. "But I don't wanna!"

"Well you are anyway!" Glorfindel grabbed the sobbing Elrond and dragged him out if the room. Lindir raced after him.

"What is wrong with him?"

Glorfindel didn't answer, Elrond was fighting him and bawling.

"NO NO NO I DON'T WANNA GO TO BED!" wailed Elrond dramatically. "I WON'T! I WON'T! I WON'T!"

Glorfindel patted him on the head. "I'll tell you a story!"

"Don't wanna story, wanna tackle tables!"

Exasperated, Glorfindel knocked Elrond over the head and he fell silent. Lindir was still watching in horrified astonishment.

"What..."

However, Glorfindel didn't hear him as he swept away with Elrond. Lindir sighed for the third time that morning. No one ever told him anything. The best thing to do was to write a song about it. He sighed again. Such was the life of a minstrel.

* * *

Review or...KIIIIIINNNNNNNSSSSLLLLAAAAYYYYYYIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG!


	2. Chapter 2

Thranduil tossed his hair fabulously as he glared at Legolas, who sighed. "Legolas, I raised you to be so much more fabulous than this." he announced fabulously. "Just because some strange person invaded Mirkwood does not mean you simply retreat!"

"But Ada..."

Thranduil glared. "No buts. Go and defeat whatever this new threat is."

Legolas trembled. "You do not understand! He could kill with a flash of light! We do not know how to stop him!"

Thranduil did not look impressed. "If you have any fabulousness at all, you will find a way. Here is your chance to prove to me that you CAN after all be fabulous."

Legolas backed away. "Well, you're probably right. I'm not fabulous after all."

Thranduil grabbed him and tossed him out the door, then returned to his throne. "Problem solved." he said fabulously.

Legolas crept into Mirkwood alone. If he was to defeat this threat he would do it himself. There was no need for any more to die with him. Suddenly he heard a strange sound from the darkness ahead.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Before he even saw anything coming he was dead. With a creepy laugh, the stranger advanced to the Halls of the Party King of Mirkwood.

One by one the elves died. One by one the stranger got closer to Thranduil, who was completely unaware of it all. He slew Tauriel, much to the rejoicing of Middle-Earth in general.

Thranduil was sampling some new wine when he entered. He started.

"Who are you?"

The figure laughed. "You Know Who!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Thranduil twitched, and crumpled to the ground.

Voldemort snickered. It had been all too easy. Inwardly laughing, he turned to leave.

But suddenly, to his lasting dismay, Thranduil leapt to his feet. There was a scar on his forehead shaped like an elk's antler. Voldemort gasped and backed up a feet steps. How had the elf survived?

Thranduil gave Volemort a condescending glance. "Another failed attempt on my life." he said with fabulous coolness. "I trust you know you are about to die."

Volemort had no words. He was in awe of Thranduil's fabulousness.

Thranduil smirked, and turned away with a fabulous hair toss.

Voldemort flopped over and died.

The End.


End file.
